


it’s thinking of love

by coiledrage



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, eddie my love i love you so, im incredibly predictable, soft reddie action, yes this is inspired by a richard siken poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coiledrage/pseuds/coiledrage
Summary: “the radio aches a little tune that tells the story of what the night is thinking. it’s thinking of love.“
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris (mentioned)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	it’s thinking of love

the sun was a blazing ball of heat in the sky and richie wanted it to burn him alive. he was splayed out spread-eagle in the bed of his truck, melting into the metal slowly as sun rays kissed his arms. it was  _ hot _ . it didn’t help that richie’s head was already burning from the inside out. eddie was taking his sweet time getting ready in his bedroom while richie succumbed to the dry derry heat, parked neatly in eddie’s drive way.

“what’re you doing, asshat? it’s eighty-nine degrees outside, do you  _want_ to get burned by your truck?” enter eddie kaspbrak, worry-wort extraordinaire.

“aw, you worried about me, eds?” richie’s grin was a slow, smug caterpillar arcing it’s back across his face.

eddie huffed, indignant. “in your dreams, trashmouth. are we going, or what?” his arms were crossed, so richie spread his own even further, just to be contrary.

“i dunno. thinkin’ ‘bout working on my tan.”

“come  _ on_ _,_ rich. stan bet me he’d beat us to mike’s and i’m not in the mood to lose five bucks to that smug bastard.”

richie let out a high, snarky cry of laughter, “he’s probably been there since school let out. you know how stanley is about getting quality time with his  _ boyfriend_.”

“why do you say ‘boyfriend’ like it’s a joke?” eddie sighed, scuffing his sneaker on the asphalt, “they’re actually dating.”

“it’s funner.”

“more fun.”

richie blew a raspberry, “stop correcting me, killjoy.”

“stop being a bigot then. do you think it’s bad that stan and mike are  _ boyfriends_, rich? do you think it’s  _wrong?_ is that why it’s funny to you?

“eds, i’m joking.” richie lifted himself into his elbows to get a good look at him.

“it’s not a funny joke, richie! and stop calling me eds!” eddie clenched his fists against his thighs. 

“hey,” richie started, stretching his arm out in an attempt to clutch eddie’s shoulder that he dodged, “hey, listen. i’m not a bigot and it was a joke. stan is like my brother, eddie. i would never say a bad word against him in my life, or mike, for that matter! and i have no problems with them dating, for obvious reasons. they’re really good together. i’m just a trashmouth, eds. you know i don’t mean half of what i say.”

eddie’s shoulders drifted away from his ears the longer richie spoke. “what obvious reasons?” he asked, still huffy and angry, because eddie didn’t know how to ask anything without sounding huffy and angry. and he was worried there, for a second. for obvious reasons.

richie’s eyes looked kinda sad when he smiled, this time. his only answer was to shake his head, then he climbed out from the bed of his truck and made his way behind the wheel. “come on, spagheds, we don’t have all day!”

the drive to mike’s barn wasn’t a short one, so richie filled the air with his definition of “good music.” eddie tried his best to look completely unaffected by the way richie serenaded him as he drove, glancing over periodically to whisper all sultry-like in eddie’s direction, big hands on the steering wheel. eddie’s best was not enough, judging by the proud grin on richie’s face. 

the next song was slower, softer. it surprised eddie that richie even had it on his playlist. for some reason, richie didn’t shout the lyrics and bang the steering wheel to the beat. in fact, he looked oddly nervous as the vocals approached, and eddie could not figure out why a song was making richie nervous until he heard it. 

**_“eddie my love, i love you so-”_ **

and that made him pause. “rich?”

no response. or at least, no verbal response. richie’s face was an answer all by itself. his cheeks were red and his eyes were red and the way he chewed on his bottom lip had to hurt like a bitch. the sun was setting behind him and it set his dark hair on fire.

_the radio aches a little tune_

_that tells a story of what the night is thinking_

“richie, would you look at me? please?”

“i’m driving, eddie spaghetti. gotta keep my eyes on the road, in case you didn’t know.” he sounds awful and nervous and meek. eddie decides he prefers loud and obnoxious to nervous and meek.

“richie.” he insists, hesitantly resting his palm against richie’s exposed knee. he’s wearing shorts and his lean calves are on display and eddie realizes, not for the first time, that richie has  a lot of leg. he nearly says it out loud and then he doesn’t, because richie is gently pulling his truck off the road and tucking it under a canopy of trees. he turns to face eddie. the sky is purple and stars are emerging to reflect in richie’s glasses.

“obvious reasons.” richie says. and it takes eddie’s brain a minute to do the mental gymnastics and remember their earlier conversation. “it’s you, eds. you’re the obvious reason. one of them, at least.”

“i’m why you don’t have a problem with stan and mike? what does that even mean, richie?”

richie laughs, and it’s a soft, sad noise that makes eddie want to cover richie’s mouth with his own so he never makes it again. he doesn’t answer the question, just hums along to the song, eyes sad, voice sad and eddie kind of wants to hit him and then he sings, “please eddie don’t make me wait too long.”

_it’s thinking of love_

it clicks, suddenly. eddie’s brain feels a little wired and a little electric and he says, “do you mean- are you saying that- that i’m- are you-?”

“i love you.” he looks devastated, which is not how eddie pictured his first ever love confession to be. devastating. not that he  did picture it. much.

“w- well then why do you look so miserable?”

and then richie’s lips melted out of the sad smile they were forming and stretched and stretched into a grin until it cracks under the force of his laughter, and eddie bursts right after him.

it takes a minute, two, for them to sober up. eddie’s hand is still on richie’s knee. he spreads his fingers apart to cover more bare skin and smiles to himself when richie shivers beneath his touch. “i love you, too. by the way.” 

“in the gay way? i hope you mean in the gay way because otherwise i just wasted a lot of energy on relief.”

“in the gay way.” eddie agrees, with a heavy sigh. 

richie threads his fingers through eddie’s on his knee, then presses a soft kiss to the soft skin at the back of eddie’s hand. his smile reflects moonlight onto the dashboard. 

he replays the song, and this time he sings along to every word.

_it’s thinking of love_

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first published reddie fic on ao3!! tho i’m in the process of making a lil au on twitter if u wanna check that out @/DYKEB0Y (boy w/ a zero for the o)


End file.
